


Play With Your Evil Inside

by imherecauseimnotallthere98



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animalistic, Blood, Blood Fascination, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Boys Kissing, Crazed Dean, Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, First Blade, First Kiss, Goodbye Stranger Parallel, Healing, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mark of Cain, Minor Character Death, Post-Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger, Violent Dean, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2475386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imherecauseimnotallthere98/pseuds/imherecauseimnotallthere98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on what could have happened when Magnus captured Dean and gave him the first blade.<br/>As soon as Dean touched the mandible blade, he knew nothing but the need to kill. After Magnus, he set his sights on Sam, until Cas showed up...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play With Your Evil Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. I own nothing. Title is from "Awaken" by Disturbed.

Dean slowly looked up from where he stood slumped against the wall. Sam was pretty sure if Dean hadn't had chains wrapped around him, holding him against the pillar, his brother would have fallen to the floor. Something about him was noticeably different right from the jump. Sam couldn't pinpoint what exactly, except that Dean's movement seemed... Rough, jerky. His body was still shaking, but for a different reason now. Not out of fatigue or an internal struggle, no, this was from raw energy. The mark on his arm was glowing now, the pulses of red travelling visibly through his veins and crawling up his arm and down his hand to the blade. A slow, totally wrong smile tugged at the corners of Dean's mouth, making him look maniacal. Sam didn't know what the first blade was doing to him, but he knew that /thing/ smiling at Magnus was /not/ his brother, not really.  
Dean still hadn't opened his eyes, but he had at least raised his head enough that it was resting against the pillar behind him. His hand was clenched around the mandible blade in his hand, and he took in great shuddering breaths. Suddenly, as if being startled awake, his eyes flew open.  
Sam was not prepared for what he saw, and his gasp was proof of that. Dean's eyes... His irises weren't quite the dark, blood red of a crossroads demon, and they weren't Azaziel's yellow either. Rather, they were almost a mix of the two. Bright, almost glowing red was only interrupted by the flecks of equally bright yellow. It was almost like fire, or flowing lava in its colour and intensity. 

**********

The first thing Dean was aware of was the pulses of feeling coursing through him. It was an odd mix of exhilaration and adrenalin, but at the same time it was total calm and focus. He slowly raised his head, and with every movement he made, he could feel the mark on his arm burning hot and pulsing. His body was vibrating with raw energy, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good, and he knew he'd never been this powerful. He loved the rush it gave him immediately.  
He turned his head when he heard a strong heartbeat, and honed in on the sound of blood rushing through someone's veins. He didn't know who it was, and he didn't care, he just knew he needed to stop that noise.  
He opened his eyes, searching out his prey. Through a red haze, he locked on target with the man in front of him and grinned. He /needed/ to kill him. 

**********

"Dean?" Sam cautiously asked. 

His brother turned his sharp glare in his direction, but it was almost like he wasn't seeing him, or that he saw him, but didn't recognize him. Magnus laughed and clapped once. 

"Yes! Finally! I have been trying to find Cain for years to complete my collection, but now I have something better. The new Father of Murder himself." 

"What did you do to him?" Sam demanded. 

Magnus was smiling at Dean like he was some grand prize. 

"Me? Nothing. Your brother could not have taken on the mark if he wasn't worthy of it. All I did was give him the missing piece." 

Dean was struggling hard against his bonds now, looking like a wild animal caged. Sam was terrified to see that the chains were actually warping like they might break. 

**********

Dean heard a noise to his left, and turned to look at the man next to him. He could hear the other man's heart pounding in his chest, terrified. Dean grinned at the fear he was causing in both strangers, and he fought to get free. He needed to stop that noise, the steady thumping and rhythmic rush of blood through veins. So close to the surface, so easy to get to. He wanted to feel it run down his arms and hands, dripping off his blade. He wanted to smell the coppery, warm liquid. He wanted to stain the walls and floor with it.  
His own heart was racing now, and he struggled against the chains wrapped around him, furious at being contained. He pushed harder when he felt a slight give, it fueled him to keep trying.  
He heard the men talking, and their voices were irritating and grating, making him push harder against the chains. He needed to stop it.

**********

Sam had never been scared of his brother. Not really. He'd worried about letting Dean down, or, when he was younger, what Dean would do when he found Sam on any of the occasions the younger Winchester had run away, but he'd always known he wasn't in danger of much more than getting punched. Maybe knocked out if Dean was in a shitty mood and Sam had really crossed the line. Point was, some pain killers and a bitchfit later, him and Dean were over it. But now... Sam was genuinely terrified of what Dean might do if he got free in this state. 

"Dean! Dean, drop the blade!" 

Dean only fought harder to get free. Sam was at least slightly relieved to see that his brother's unnatural eyes were focused on Magnus and not him. If anyone should be the focus of Dean's rage, it should be that sick fucker. With a loud groan and a sudden snap, one link in the chains snapped. That's all it took. Dean practically launched himself across the room, eyes locked on his target, blade raised and ready.  
Magnus' smug grin was long gone, replaced with wide eyes as he stumbled backwards. Dean was quick though. He grabbed the man by the throat with his free hand and lifted him off the ground, before slamming him against the nearest wall. Sam heard a /crack/, and he wasn't sure if Dean had broken part of the wall, or Magnus' spine. Letting go of his neck, Dean grabbed him by his hair instead. Sam heard the brunet let out a pained grunt, followed by him choking as he tried to breath. Dean brought the first blade to his prey's neck, and slowly, without letting his intense eyes leave Magnus', pushed the blade through until it touched the wall. The dead body fell to the floor, bleeding out and leaving the hunter holding a dripping head.

**********

Dean focused his attention on the man across from him, knowing that the man beside him was trapped anyways.  
He could feel his restraints warping, heard them groaning and creaking. The noise angered him more. Finally, there was a loud snap, and the pressure against his chest released.  
He was across the room in a matter of seconds, the blade raised and ready. His free hand was around the man's neck before he even thought to do it, squeezing tightly enough to cut of his air supply and slow down the blood flowing through the arteries in his neck.  
Dean grinned, before turning and using his momentum to slam his prey into the closest wall with a satisfying crack. Releasing his hold on the man's neck, Dean held him up by his hair instead, revelling in the wheezing pants he let out as he tried to suck in much needed air.  
Flipping the first blade around in his hand so the mandible was sticking out the back of his grip, he moved it against his target's throat. He was going to savour this.  
Slowly, with glowing red eyes locked on terrified brown ones, Dean pushed the bade through his prey's throat, not stopping until it touched the wall.  
The decapitated body fell away, hitting the floor with a wet thud, blood quickly pooling out of it and around Dean's feet.

**********

Sam watched with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, shocked not only by Dean's new strength, but by the pleasure he had taken in killing Magnus.  
Sam was suddenly painfully aware that he was still chained to a pillar, and that the only way he would get free was if Dean helped him. 

"Dean? You wanna drop the head and give me a hand?" 

Dean's head whipped around, his piercing eyes locking on his brother. Sam felt himself tense up under that predatory stare. He saw no recognition on Dean's face at all. It was like someone, some /thing/ had taken control of his brother. 

"Dean?" Sam asked, cursing himself for how scared be sounded. 

Dean let Magnus' head fall to the ground with a wet /thump/, and began stalking towards his helpless brother. He kept coming until he was inches away from him, burning eyes locked on with his brother's brown ones.  
Sam squirmed uncomfortably, trying in vain to move away. He watched in horror as Dean lifted the blade, and felt it pressed against his throat, putting just enough pressure on it that Sam knew if he moved, skin would be cut.

"Dean, don't do this. This isn't you, come on. You have to fight this."

Dean either didn't hear him, or didn't care. Sam saw him adjust his grip on the blade, and knew he was seconds from pushing it through.

**********

Dean held the head in place as the body fell away. He felt good, /really/ good. His body was practically humming with satisfaction. He would have loved to stay as he was for a while, hearing the sound of blood dripping into the floor, seeing the blank, dead look in the headless man's eyes. Then, as if a sudden rage filled him, he would drop to the ground, soaking himself in the pool of blood now surrounding him, and he would beat and hit and stab the blade into the dead body, making sure it was dead. By the time he was done, the walls, the ceiling, and he himself would be dripping wet with someone else's blood, stained deep red.  
He was getting ready to do just that, when a noise from across the room caught his attention. It sounded meek, scared and pleading. He turned his sharp gaze to its source. He could make out the shape of a man, evidently trapped and scared, trying to talk to him.  
Within seconds, Dean found himself inches away from the man he'd almost forgotten about, his blade raise and pushed against the man's throat. Vaguely, he heard the man talking, as if pleading. He was sure it was directed at him, but it didn't matter, because he couldn't distinguish any meaning from the noises being made, and he didn't care enough to wait around and find out. He was going to end the awful noise of blood rushing and a scared heart pounding with adrenalin and nonsense noises that meant nothing to him.

**********

"Dean, stop."

The hunter paused at the sound of a second, new voice. As Dean whipped around, he moved out of the way just enough for Sam to see Castiel standing in the entrance. His brother growled, and left Sam for the time being, turning to fully face Cas.

"Dean," the angel continued. "Listen to me. You need to fight this."

Dean practically snarled, starting to stalk towards his new target. He reached him in a few long strides, and Sam winced when he heard the loud crunch as Dean's fist connected with Cas' jaw. The angel stumbled back, clearly surprised at the strength behind the hit. Dean followed him, landing another hit that knocked Cas into the wall. Straightening up again, Castiel moved to face Dean.

"Fight it, Dean."

Sam wanted desperately to help as he watched Dean beat Cas around the room, the angel telling him all the while to fight the mark, to take back control.  
The last hit had knocked Cas to his knees. His face was bloody and cut in a few places, his jaw was puffy, and his left eye was swollen shut.

"Dean, I know you can hear me. I know you're in there." His voice was ragged and tired, begging Dean to listen. Dean didn't, and landed another punch. He seemed fed up with fighting someone who wasn't fighting back, and grabbed Cas by the shoulder to hold him, while raising the blade above his own head, ready to strike the killing blow.

**********

Just as he was ready to push the blade through, a new, deeper, calm voice interrupted him.  
He whipped around, momentarily lowering his blade back to his side, allowing the man from earlier to take in a full breath. He glared at the new man who had dared interrupt him. An inhuman snarl escaped his throat, and he abandoned his earlier target in favour of the new arrival.  
His fist connect with the strange man's jaw in a loud, wonderful crack. He was please to see the surprise and pain flash across his features. Refusing to let up, and trying to instill fear in his prey, Dean followed him where ever he swayed, continuing to deliver painful hits that caused resounding crunches and cracks, as well as grunts of pain. Despite that fact that Dean was crazed with bloodlust from the mark, he could sense a supernatural power similar to his own in this man, an angel, he realized, and why he didn't fight back was confusing, and infuriating.  
Killing that man earlier was satisfying, but easy, and a little boring. Now, here he was with an equal match, a challenge, and he wasn't fighting back. Snarling, Dean hit harder, and faster, trying to get a rise out of his victim, with no luck. All the angel was doing was talking to him, begging him to- to do something. He could understand that much. Pushing past his momentary hesitation, he struck a final blow that knocked the angel to his knees.  
Rivulets of blood trickled from various places on the man's face, which he could now see was swollen and probably hurt like hell.  
Deciding he wasn't going to get the fight he wanted, he raised the blade above his head, ready to strike.

**********

"Dean, it's me. It's me."

Sam was sure he saw Dean's eyes flash green and his features soften for a second. Cas reached out and held on to Dean's arm, looking up at the stranger in front of him.

"I love you. We need you. I need you."

**********

In what he thought was either a moment of clarity, or a moment of insanity, the hunter paused. Dean. The angel had called him Dean. No, not just any random angel. He recognized him, Dean was sure of it. Like seeing a familiar face on the street, one that you can't quite place, but know you've seen before. The angel was still talking, still begging.

"I love you."

Something deep in Dean clung to those words. His chest tightened and his own heart spend up for an entirely different reason.

/“Cas.”/

**********

Dean froze, and Sam saw his brother's clenched hand slowly relax, until it let the blade fall to the ground in a clatter. His eyes cleared, going back to their normal green, and the mark stopped glowing.  
Castiel relaxed as soon as he knew he could. His body gave out on him, and the only thing holding him up was Dean's death grip on his shoulder. The hunter dropped to his knees immediately, his other hand gripping the angel now to steady him.

"Cas?" Dean asked in a shaky, scared voice. "Cas, oh god. Cas, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Cas just leaned against Dean, panting and trying to calm down.

"...wasn't really you." Cas mumbled against his shoulder. "...was the mark, an' the blade.

Sam sighed in relief, knowing that at least for now Dean was mostly his normal self. His brother stayed where he was on the floor, holding Cas upright until the cuts on his face started closing and the swelling began to go down as the angel healed his vessel.  
Once Dean was sure he was mostly okay, the Winchester stood up and walked over to his brother. After helping him out of the chains, he checked Sam to make sure he was okay.

"Sam-"

"Dean, I'm fine."

"I almost killed you. I almost killed Cas." Dean said, mostly to himself, sounding terrified at the prospect that the blade had made him lose control like that, forget everything except the need to kill. Sam squeezed his brother's shoulder to steady and calm him.

"But you didn't. We're both fine."

Sensing Dean was gonna argue, Sam interrupted him before he could.

"Cas? You okay?"

The angel looked perfectly fine now, cuts, bruises and swelling gone. He was standing fairly steady on his own, the only sign he'd been in a fight at all was his messy hair and rumpled clothes.

"I'm fine. Let's just leave."

 

Cas barely had the juice to poof himself and the two Winchesters out of Magnus' weird, invisible, door-less mansion. The second they appeared next to the Impala, he'd collapsed against Dean with no warning. The hunter held up the unconscious angel as best he could, refusing Sam's help as he gently eased Cas into the backseat.

The drive back to the bunker was silent for the most part. Once or twice Sam had tried to say something, but when he'd hinted at what Cas had said, Dean immediately turned up the radio and ignored his brother. He couldn't think about that right now. He couldn't dare to hope that Cas had meant what he said, or that he had even heard him correctly in the state they were both in. Later, with a bottle of whisky, while Cas was resting, he would let his mind wander. But right now, it was still too fresh. Too raw.

 

They arrived at the bunker around three in the morning. Cas had woken up once or twice on the drive, but it was only for a few minutes here or there, and he never said anything. Mostly he looked out the window, or glanced at Dean in the rear view, looking away if the hunter happened to catch his eye.  
The angel of Thursday leaned on Dean as they all stumbled into the bunker. Once Sam was sure Dean and Cas were both okay on their own, he made his way down the hall to his own room.  
Dean adjusted his grip on Cas, holding the angel's arm over his shoulder to support his weight. The hunter lead him down the hall to his own room. On the way, Cas insisted he was fine and could walk on his own, but when Dean let him go, the angel slumped against the nearest wall like a wet rag. Ignoring any further protests, Dean wrapped an arm around his friend again and helped him along.  
Once they reached Dean's room, the hunter helped Cas lay down on the bed, shifting him until he was more or less comfortable. Before Cas could stop him, Dean undid the laces on his dress shoes, and slipped them off.

"Dean, you don't need to-"

"Shut up, Cas. Trust me, sleeping in shoes sucks. You'll be more comfortable this way."

Cas looked like he wanted to argue, but kept his mouth shut. He fidgeted uncomfortably as Dean pulled his shoes off one by one. Dean could tell he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how. The hunter had a pretty good idea of what the conversation would entail, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet.

"You need clothes?" He asked.

Cas frowned in confusion, before looking down at his shirt and pants.

"I... I have clothes."

Dean couldn't help the attractive snort that forced it's way out. Cas' confusion would never not be adorable.

"I mean clothes for sleeping. You know, like sweats and a loose t-shirt?"

The confusion cleared.

"Oh...I- No, I'm fine. Thank you."

Dean nodded. Okay. Cas was all settled to rest for a bit, Sam was in his own room, that left Dean alone to drink himself into oblivion in the library and think about what he'd almost done back at the mansion, and what Cas had said. He turned to leave the room, his hand on the door knob before Cas caught him.

"Dean,"

Damn it. So close. Dean steeled his nerves and carefully schooled his features before he turned around to face the angel again. He was sitting up on the bed, still looked fidgety and nervous.

"Yeah, Cas?"

Cas paused again, breaking eye contact with the hunter. He toyed with a loose thread in the sheets, watching it like it was the most fascinating thing since sliced bread.

"What I said... at Magnus' mansion-"

"Cas," Dean interrupted. "We don't have to talk about this now. You should get some sleep."

The damn angel would not be deterred.

"No, Dean. I... I meant it. All of it."

Dean didn't know what to say. He thanked every god above that he didn't make some ridiculous face, or say something dumb. Cas waited for an answer.

"Please say something."

Dean just stood there, mouth opening and closing dumbly.

"Why?" He finally got out. It wasn't really the best thing to say, and it definitely shouldn't have been his first question, but it was all he could manage for now. "Why would anyone, let alone an angel, care about me that much?"

Castiel frowned in confusion.

"You don't think you deserve to be loved."

It was more a statement than a question. Dean sighed and took a few steps closer to the bed.

"Cas, I've done horrible things. People have died because of me."

"And many more have lived because of you." Castiel countered. "Dean, everything you have ever done that you think is wrong, you've made up for tenfold in the lives you've saved, the people you've helped."

Dean shook his head, still moving closer to the bed, to Cas. It was like part of him wanted to believe the angel and be as close to him as possible, while another part wanted to stay where he was.

"Cas, I'm not someone you should trust or waste time on. Everyone who has ever gotten close to me has wound up dead. Or worse."

"Dean," Castiel wished Dean could see how good he was, how many people he'd helped that we're alive and happy because of him. "You aren't a bad person. You are a very good person, who bad things have happened to. And though it is tragic what happened to those you loved, their deaths were not you're fault. They made their own choices, and could have turned back at any time."

Dean said nothing for a few moments. Castiel wasn't sure if the hunter was thinking over what he'd said, or gearing up for another argument.

"And no matter what you say," Cas interrupted Dean's train of thought. "It will not change how I feel about you."

The look Dean gave Cas was almost pleading. But there was something else in there. A hope that the hunter was trying to hide. Castiel hoped that meant Dean felt the same.  
He got his answer when the hunter moved the rest of the way towards him until he was sitting on the bed at the angel's side. Dean wrapped his hand around the back of Cas' neck to help gently guide him closer. It only took Cas a second to realize what was happening, and he quickly obliged the hunter, leaning in eagerly to meet him in a slow kiss.  
Dean, for all how he was usually brash and violent, was actually very tender and thoughtful when it came to things like this. He was gentle and slow as he kissed Cas, giving the angel time to adjust and settle in to it, or pull back if he changed his mind. Castiel could feel Dean smiling against his lips, and he grinned in return, leaning in again to kiss that smile. The one he knew he'd put there.

 

"Dean!" Sam called to his brother through the bedroom door. When he got no answer, he knocked and called out again. "Dean, come on man. Since when do you sleep this late?"

Silence. Sighing, Sam opened the door, hoping he wouldn't see something that would scar him for life.

"You lazy f-"

Sam couldn't finish his sentence, shocked into silence by the sight before him. Tucked under the sheets were Dean and Cas, in a very intimate position. Dean was mostly on his back, his one arm flopped on his stomach, the other wrapped around Cas. The angel in question was tucked up against the hunter's side, his head on Sam's brother's chest, one arm wrapped around Dean's waist, his hand curled into a light fist, bunching the material of Dean's grey t-shirt. Dean's head rested against the angel's as he snored softly. Both were sound asleep. Sam's barely there smirk grew to a full on grin before he knew it.

"About damn time. Charlie owns me fifty bucks."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it, please comment and kudos. You can follow me on Tumblr, my url is imherecauseimnotallthere98


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